ECO Oswald & Senior Raptor Pilot
by Moss Moe
Summary: Clara Oswald wants to join the Colonial Military when she gets fed up with the 12th Doctor's stuff. Joining she ends up as the ECO for Margaret 'Racetrack' Edmonson, who she unknowingly is falling in love with. Rated M for a lesbian romance story, chapters with the stuff for the one uppers will be marked for such.
1. Introduction

The following paragraphs are for your informational use. All words following are purely to help you understand this series, if you want to read the story this is connected too, skip to the next chapter.

This story is written as a tribute to some of the best science fiction characters not fully recognized for their talents, or the role they play. Now that I've said that, let's talk some about this. This story takes place in fictional world where I have combined some of my favorite science-fiction shows/movies for an epic protagonist vs antagonist spat, this means Imperials versus the _Battlestar Galactica,_ Cylons versus a _Miranda-class_ cruiser, Destiny versus the Wraith, and Rogue Squadron versus a Go'uld mothership. I will take the moment to put in facts about the different franchises I've decided to use.

I've probably a smaller selection than I could, I have not seen many shows, but I intend to include the TV series Battlestar _Galactica, Stargate_ (SG-1, Atlantis, and Universe), a small hint of Firefly, and elements of Star Trek expressed through the game Star Trek Online, as well as Doctor Who. I have recently chosen to include Star Wars, I will mainly use some backup characters as well as a semi-original storyline. I know that my selection is indeed small and limited in scope, I feel that these are some of the best science-fiction series ever made.

Nothing much has changed in Battlestar Galactica, this series will still use most of it's original characters from before the season 2.0 finale, the episode Pegasus. I will, however, use some of the secondary characters to a greater extent, one of my favorite will probably be Lt. Margaret 'Racetrack' Edmonson.

In Stargate I'll have a lot of fun: _Atlantis_ had been sent back to Pegasus with a brand new crew and a military mission, she also has a civilian element and does conduct research operations. With the Wraith suddenly at large in the Milky Way, alongside the Lucian Alliance, and Replicators old and new, not to mention a doubly evil system lord calling himself Lucifer (coincidence? I think not!) the Stargate Program finally went public. This means funding for the program is much greater, military involvement from all nations is common, and the fleets are growing. The most well known ships, _Odyssey_ , _Apollo_ , and _Daedalus_ are on a mission to Pegasus, where Replicators new and the Wraith are screwing people over, to assist the Travelers and the Genii in a joint operation against a Wraith-Hybrid colony. After rendezvousing with the fleet on the edge of Pegasus, the entire group, three BC-304s, once Ancient battleship, and three Traveler Generational ships with a BC-303 ( _Prometheus-_ class), jumped towards their target. While en route all ships had managed to travel down the same pathway when they suddenly dropped out two hours too soon. They were the foreign group in what we will call the Great War Space. Minutes later _BS-75, Galactica,_ jumped out and almost collided with _Daedalus_. This begins our story.

Later the group meets up with 25th Century Starfleet and Romulan Republic, along with an admiral of a group called the Independent Orions, not long after meeting themselves. The Star Trek characters are of my own creation in an attempt to break away from the classic Star Trek fan lore, I have preferred to create my own characters for that branch of the series. These character's lives are all based off the 2012 game Star Trek Online, which is basically the continuation of the original series after J.J. Abrams brought Spock over into a new universe.

Finally we meet _Destiny,_ which had succeeded in it's three year loop and was exploring far off galaxies while the computed how to use the wormhole drive back to Earth. And not long after Destiny we run into the infamous _Serenity_ being chased down by a massive group of Reavers.

During the battle with the Reavers another group jumps into War Space, these are the Rebels in their early stages. While Luke Skywalker was off becoming a Jedi, Wedge Antilles and Rogue Squadron are assigned to a Mon Calamari Cruiser that is doing hit and run with a small fleet of corvettes. This means we got X-wings, A-wings, Y-wings, B-wings and what not without the problem of self-righteous Jedi!

Anyway you get the point, lots of fun stuff. Basically these groups have to get along while fighting their enemies, who are much better at getting along, while dealing with problems they must face. The biggest is the fleet Galactica is escorting, they must accept their new allies, as well as the aliens among them, and soon that becomes more difficult when Pegasus arrives. They must now establish themselves and work together, it was going very nicely, and soon ally with something a little crazy.

They're final universe to encounter is a crazy time shifting one that focuses on a man in a blue box. You know who it is. It appears that there were problems and suddenly 10th, 11th, and 12th Doctors all happen to have shown up in the same place, at the same time. Along with some of their companions, Clara Oswald, Amy Pond, and Donna Noble, these three are an annoying trio of trouble. There are no pacifists in war, thus working with the Doctors is very hard.

I added the Doctor(s) in the story to include some of his best enemies, Daleks and Cybermen are the biggest reason. But tensions are high between these attempted men of peace and the commanders surrounding them, it is a mystery that men with such powerful blue boxes can't do anything and now spend their days trying to remedy the TARDIS of it's problems.

For your own convenience I will now speak of the commanders in the fleet:

Commanding Officer Military Forces, Colonial Fleet: Commander (Cmdr) William Adama "Old Man" Executive Officer: Colonel Saul Tigh

Commanding Air Group, BS-75 Galactica, Military Liaison Colonial Fleet: Captain (Cpt.) Lee "Apollo" Adama

Commander of Operations, Taur'i, Traveler, Genii Pegasus Task Force: Colonel (Col.) Evan Lorne (Commanding Officer: _Daedulus_ ), Seconded by Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard (Commanding Officer: Apollo).

Commander Traveler Detachment Group Leader: Larrin (Commanding Lantean _Aurora_ -class battleship) Seconded by Aiden Ford (Second in Command on Larrin's ship.)

Commanding current Genii Army units, succeeding lost commander: Commander Sora Tyrus

Commander Alliance Fleet Duty Force: Commander Ell Shareen (Commander Mon Calamari battleship _Alderaan_ ), Seconded by Commander Wedge Antilles (Rogue Squadron Leader).

Commander all Starfleet forces (It's one ship): Captain Jacey Sellers (Commanding Officer U.S.S. Exeter)

Commander all Romulan Republic Forces (three Warbirds, all T'varo): Subcommander (S'Cmdr) Bekia-Abat

Commander all Independent Orion Forces, operating with funding from the house of Martog: Lieutenant General (LtGen.) Kathy Newman (Orion KDF officer, name was controversial as she was a war hero and a Orion.)

That about sums this massive fleet up, or as Laura Roslin would put it: Our collective asses. . . .

As we know, each of these franchises has their own way of doing combat, as well as scientific thoughts to travel and building their ships. Now I could have said that all ships have shields, their weapons are the same, or all ships do not have shields, and weapon power is simply changed, because of this I have had to strike a compromise.

Basically, the armor of ships is energy absorbent, this makes it where projectiles and energy weapons are equally damaging to _Galactica_ , yet how each weapon acts is different. Projectile weapons ignore shields, cannons, guns, missiles, all the same. And again, armor absorbs energy.

The situation with fighters is about the same as well: _Galactica's_ fighters are very maneuverable, others are less and use an entirely different function of propulsion. If an X-wing and a Viper get in a fight, the odds in the favor of the Viper if it has the chance maneuver, but if the Viper is at range, running or going head on, it is suddenly screwed as the superior range of an X-wing's weapons. Are we at an understanding? Excellent!

Finally about modes of travel. As we know, _Galactica_ uses a FTL that jumps you instantaneous between two points, I've devised that this is a very accurate short range jump, attempting to jump a very long range where variables are great, can result in a fault and coming out in the middle of nowhere. Thus hyperspace used by the characters of Star Wars is a long range form of transportation, the same for Stargate, leaving Star Trek being more of a cruising speed at about ¾ the speed the Star Wars ships travel. Once I begin to write the story, that's not this story!, I will see that it is explained and will add a link somewhere in this intro.

I do feel that I have summed the entire technical elements of this story up, now on to the precise points of this particular story.


	2. You are the replacements!

This story is supposed to be a romance between the Doctor Who main character Clara Oswald and Lieutenant Margaret 'Racetrack' Edmonson. Currently we are at an early point in the story, for the _Galactica_ and her ships have just succeeded in their mission of Kobol and have yet to meet up with Pegasus, the group has met with the U.S.S. _Exeter_ and has had long relations already with the Task Group under Colonel Lorne. The Doctors have shown up, accidentally dropping right out on the hangar deck of _Galactica_ , after a short interlude of comedy, they are arrested and interrogated. After they are released, on authority of Laura Roslin, their ships, which are screwed over, are set on Cloud Nine where they work day in day out to fix them. While Donna Noble and Amy Pond, traveling with the David Tennant (10th) and Matt Smith (11th) Doctors, are happy with helping out the best they can; Clara is constantly growing more and more frustrated with the Peter Capaldi (12th) Doctor for his condescension. Finally, Clara snaps and leaves to join the Fleet.

On Battlestar _Galactica_ some are still shocked by the entrance of Helo and a second Boomer, with the first Boomer dead, Lieutenant Margaret 'Racetrack' Edmonson is now the senior Raptor pilot and ECO. _Galactica_ is still short of pilots, many killed in the hanger pod explosion were Raptor pilots celebrating. While Starbuck is trying to recover from her experience on Caprica, and Lee Adama is off ship acting as a liaison for the Colonial Fleet, Racetrack has the duty for training new Raptor ECOs and former ECOs to be pilots.

The story goes on. . . . .

(Author's Note: I know I'm not the best at context and conversational writing, much better at exposition, but I hope this satisfies your hunger for more. I will indeed continue to write, but this story may be delayed at I happen to have an idea for another Someone. Anyway I hope you enjoy the following couple thousand words and give me some constructive criticism and feedback. Viewers and Followers, I saw you two guys out there, you guys are awesome!

 **Cloud Nine: Outer Gardens**

The Doctor didn't quite understand humans since his twelfth regeneration, day after day he acted as if they were ants and he was the boot coming down to smash him. He constantly argued with his younger selves, the 10th and the 11th Doctors, sometimes to the point Donna Noble and Amy Pond would join Clara on a trip to the bar on Cloud Nine. Clara was losing her patience rapidly, day after day her Doctor, as much as she hated that term, talked about her wrong choices, acted like she didn't exist, treated her like a slave. She was to the point of slapping the Scotsman. Neither Amy or Donna seemed to feel the same, Donna oddly was dumb and was a grease-monkey for the 10th Doctor, Amy in a way 'owning' the 11th. But Clara had no control, no connection, to this Scotsman, when she had traveled with the 10th she had been happy and free, connected closely with the wide chinned man. Her heart had almost broken the moment she saw he had another woman and didn't even recognize Clara.

Finally, she was going to do it. Her Doctor's TARDIS was the one of choice for work, they said that his exploded, they would still have all the memories, and the whole group was in there when Clara barged in the door.

"Do resist Clara, that door is a thousand years old, it'd be shame if you broke it." the Twelfth was crouching on one side of the main panels, up to his elbows in wires from the console. Clara approached where he was squatting and kicked one of his feet out from under him. The Scotsman stood and turned a look of anger on his Scottish face. "What do you think you're doing Clara!"

Clara slapped him, he came back, one hand on the side of his face, Clara stopped him from talking. "You should be ashamed of yourself Doctor." The other Doctors were paying attention now. Clara started to advance, pushing the Twelfth back. "Out there are _thousands_ of soldiers fighting for us everyday! And what are you doing? wasting away in this room with two people you hate, and hate you by the way, and making no progress! You said it to us a day ago, there is no hope of her ever flying again, not until we figure out what is in this great expanse of space! Yet still you sit here and toil worthlessly away with as little as no hope for tomorrow being more successful than today!"

The Doctor had been driven back as far as he could go, Clara was standing on her toes to get close enough to his face. "You are pathetic Doctor," She turned "all of you! Pathetic to the core, yesterday I heard five pilots were killed in combat with the Wraith, all because their fighters malfunctioned and they were too far from home."

"Well what do expect me to do eh! I'm a Doctor, I don't kill people!"

"So you don't kill people, like the last human you told me about? Like the men on the Orient Express? You don't kill people Doctor! You leave them to die, you let them die!"

"How can I help the people if I can't use my TARDIS?" the Scotsman seemed to be growing shorter.

"You can bloody help! People need food, need pilots, need mechanics, need security and negotiators!" The Tenth had been standing nearby with his sonic screwdriver, looking at a flipped section of wall, Clara took the device and tossed it away, the man exclaimed and went after it.

"You expect me to roll over and work for the military?" The Scotsman had anger on his face now, he was starting to regain his composure. Eleventh, Amy and Donna were secretly eavesdropping while faking work.

"Doctor, haven't you looked outside recently? Three times a week, at least, we are attacked, and each time I see people die, be they Taur'i or Colonials, they just keep dieing."

The Doctor go in close, his face less than six inches from Clara's. "I am not helping the military."

Clara bit her lip. It was decided then, she let him know. "Fine, you won't? I will." A book could have hit everyone in the room, even the Tenth stopped and tilted his head in inquiry.

"What?" the Twelfth asked.

"I heard that _Galactica_ needs pilots, I have signed up, there is a Raptor departing in ten minutes." Clara stepped back, she could tell that the Twelfth was shocked, his eyebrows were almost in his hairline.

"Clara," He was speaking like she was hurt, or she was a dog who had done something wrong.

"Don't 'Clara' me!"

"Clara you don't have to do this." It was Amy, she had made her way around the console and had come up beside Clara. "You don't have to join up."

"Don't I though! He is so busy fixing his ship that he doesn't realize that half the people out there aren't getting more than half a piece of bread and a half cup of water per day! That everyday a pilot puts his life on the line when making a blind jump to scout out a hiding spot for the fleet."

"But you can help other ways Clara, many other ways."

Clara spun to see the Eleventh standing before her, she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around him and knock him to the floor, she missed him so much. "It's the way I chose Doctors, and I'm going to walk it."

"But a soldier Oswin." Donna was standing beside the Tenth at a lower level.

"Danny was a soldier, wasn't he Doctor." she looked at her Doctor, he avoided her gaze. Clara pushed past Eleventh and Amy to get out the door, an amount of steps were following her on the grated floors of the TARDIS, she was out to where her bags were. She had purposely built up an amount of rage before she entered the TARDIS, now she could feel her eyes burn with bitter tears as she grabbed the one small pack she had and moved quickly from the private corner of the gardens. By the time she was out of sight from the Doctor's and their companions, she had to stop and dry her eyes of the now quickly flowing tears.

"That went well." The Tenth looked from side to side, Donna giving him a strange look of question.

"She'll be back, they always are." the Eleventh was turning, having to avoid playful swings from the long-legged Amy Pond.

"No," the Twelfth's gaze was hard and unmoving from the corner Clara had gone around, "She isn't what you think. She's different from what she was."

"What're you talking about Doc?" Donna smiled quizzically with her brow creased.

"Ever since Danny died, she's never been the same. Now when she says something, she means it." The others mostly dismissed what the Twelfth said, he tended to be very contemplative and take his joke much to seriously. They all turned and went back into the TARDIS, leaving the Twelfth standing there, staring dumbly into space, wondering what would happen to his companion.

 **Battlestar** ** _Galactica_** **(BS-75)**

After the exposure of Sharon "Boomer" ValeriI as a Cylon, Lieutenant Junior Grade Margaret "Racetrack" Edmonson had been given the position. At first it had been fun, almost exciting, yet now as Racetrack stood before a group of ten candidates for Raptor Electronic Countermeasure Officer, it was becoming a burden.

Racetrack had been in the hanger when the drone had gone off and killed so many of their pilots, she herself had been lucky not to be killed or injured as well. After, not only had they been short of Viper Pilots, but even shorter of the celebrating Raptor Pilots who had made the majority of the dead. Now, with a full compliment of 40 Raptors, Racetrack was short of qualified pilots who could be replaced in their post as a ECO. The group had been quickly pulled from the three Raptors that had brought them on board, Cheif Tyrol and Lieutenant Thrace, also known as Starbuck, yelling at the strange group to get in line. The language was less than pleasant.

Once the group was in line Starbuck turned to Racetrack, who had just made it unto the deck, and almost spat the words at her. She had no need to show any courtesy to Racetrack, Racetrack's hurting nose proved that, and sauntered off to work on a nearby Viper, hissing a low curse as she passed.

There wasn't any good blood between Racetrack and Starbuck, it was a philosophical problem, Starbuck was a freelance, one who bucked authority every chance she got; Racetrack hated it when authority was ignored, it was the result of Sharon Valerii. Racetrack had been on the ship six months longer than Sharon when she was assigned to _Galactica_ , she had a whole half year's experience, and Sharon had been assigned the senior Raptor pilot while Racetrack was actually senior. Racetrack didn't exactly have a problem with Sharon, back then they hadn't known her to be a Cylon, and had willingly worked as the senior ECO. But she always hated the way Starbuck acted around superiors, and she held the grudge for how close Kara Thrace was to the old man.

Finally the lines were straight enough for Chief Tyrol to step back and nod to Racetrack, she nodded back. Racetrack stepped before the group. "Listen up!" Heads snapped to look at her, all but one short brunette who seemed to hold herself straighter than the rest. "You are the replacements! Once you have completed your training you will _not_ be able to return to civilian life until you have served a full military career." A timid hand came up and asked how long a full career was. "A full career is four years at a minimum! If you don't think you can take life here, those three Raptors are heading back to Cloud Nine where they picked you up from." No hands came up, a few glanced at the candidates around them, peer pressure kept them in the straight lines.

Racetrack nodded to the sergeant off to her right. Sergeant Gable, a man who Racetrack respected for his ability to maintain order, stepped in front of the group.

"Alright! Face to your right! Forward, MARCH!" The group set off, lead by Specialist Cally who would be the guide for the flight. After several paces Gable ordered the group to a run, following with the words: "You're in the Colonial Military now! You gotta move quicker than my dead granny!"

Racetrack followed the group all the way down to the lousing station where they were processed into the Colonial Military. Forms were signed, oaths were said, clothes were changed to the green utility clothing, shoes were exchanged for boots and bags were searched before the group was allowed into the barracks. After half an hour of processing the group was sitting in the pilot briefing room, lining the first two rows.

Racetrack had spoken with Kate and Hotdog, she had learned closely from Starbuck's mistakes, she was determined to make this group the best ECOs _Galactica_ had ever seen. The second she entered the room and saw the heads turn towards her she almost had a heartattack. They were staring at her, everyone of them, eyes asking if she was a candidate or an instructor, some of the friendlier beginning to move to greet her when Gable called the room to attention.

"Officer on deck!" the room stood to attention, Gable had been taking several moments to teach the group common military etiquette on a battlestar. They were scrubs, they weren't exactly sharp in the movement, but it was enough for Racetrack.

Walking to the podium, Racetrack stole herself, remembering in a second all she must. "Be seated. Thank you Sergeant." Gable went to the rear of the room and guarded the door, he was to see that none of the idiot Viper jocks tried to get in the room and ruin her class.

Racetrack opened the binder she had and flipped to the opening pages to be her guidelines. "Good morning nuggets." the replies were sluggish and few, most seemed to be scared of this hard faced woman before them. "Well then, if you didn't already know, I am Lieutenant Junior Grade Margaret Edmonson, pilots call be Racetrack. I will be your teacher. . . ."


	3. It's Fear Clara

_(I'd like to thank the number of you who have viewed my story so far, I hope you have enjoyed it and I wish that you read on. Here is a picture of Clara Oswald, here is Racetrack. I hope you all have some good feedback to give, I may have accidentally spelled Tau'ri-Taur'i but those words are always confusing. In this Chapter we skip ahead of where we were and see the class graduated and ready for missions, with of course the intimacy some of you are probably craving. Be sure to let me know, I can bet you the next chapter will be more epic.)_

Chapter 3

 **Battlestar** ** _Galactica_** **(BS-75) Two weeks later.**

"I'd like to start by congratulating and complementing you all on your willingness to become Colonial Officers." Captain Lee "Apollo" Adama, Commanding Air Group (CAG), was at the podium, speaking at the group of roughly twenty officers on _Galactica's_ Port Flight Deck. The Commander was present, yet it was rumor that Captain Apollo had insisted that he gave the speech accepting these recruits into their new positions. "Very few days recently have we been able to see fresh faces and newly promoted warriors on our flight deck, I am sure in the next few days you will succeed on making it hard for Chief Tyrol to keep the landing skids in working order." Chuckles filled the room at the joke. "I will say this," Captain Adama's voice went to a serious tone. "You have just tackled the task that few will ever manage in the following months, you have endured your staff, you have endured and survived crash course training, and you have found commissions in the ranks that are solely depleted." Through this, eyes had turned to the Commander who was nodding with acknowledgment. "The people of the fleet may not realize it, but you are the legacy we will leave behind. You will be remembered for your courage to go out day to day and protect this fleet." Captain Adama's head dipped shortly, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "These are dark times, yet here in this ship we can see the strength of a crew aboard a battlestar, and we can still see the devotion of people to a cause of humanity. And those people are you, right here, right now, I salute you."

The room filled with applause as Captain Adama stepped from the podium. Racetrack took his place, the applause doubled. Margaret Edmonson had always seemed so serious, yet in the cockpit and in the barracks she looked as though she had softened, showing more compassion towards the group of candidates. They were positive a promotion had something to do with it, but they were glad to see her standing there. The applause finally settled down.

"I've never been good at speaking in public, so I will be frank and serious." A smile broke across her face. "Never before have I met a group of officers like you, none as funny, never so many smart-asses," Laughter "never so many who asked the same question _way_ to many times." She aimed her gaze at a pilot they called "In'Quired", actually one of the strange Genii men who had been sent to learn about the Colonials, just like _Galactica_ had sent officers to train in the other fleets. Racetrack looked ahead, her eyes once focusing closely on Clara, something that made Clara tilt her head in question. "But I want to say most of all, never before have I met people who were as determined as you." There were all of three Viper pilots in the room, so Racetrack was free to speak. "There is a difference between us Raptor operators and the Viper jocks. The Viper jock has to be different, has to fly like a mad-man and act think quick in combat. They're out there day to day on patrol, they are the ones who run the intercept missions, the defensive operations, the assaults. They do deserve respect, but their crudeness and skill can not compare to the mission of Raptormen. They can fly a Viper and blow toasters out of the sky without a care, but we'll be the ones who show them we're just as much of an asset as them. You have gone through training that regularly takes three years, in a matter of two weeks." Applause began as Racetrack reached into the lower portion of the podium and retrieved a bottle of high quality ambrosia. Racetrack turned to Captain Apollo and motioned for him to pop the cork, he signalled for her to do it.

Racetrack turned back to the microphone. "I have been given orders to ask one of my candidates to open the bottle. Clara Oswald get up here."

Clara felt an uncontrollable smile become impossible to hide, she pushed her way through the other candidates. She had heard of this tradition, the pouring of the first drink, it was intended that one random candidate would be poured the first glass of ambrosia to signify the class as being accepted into the Colonial Fleet. Clara was in a daze as she stepped to the podium and was handed a champagne glass by Captain Adama.

Clara's hand was guided unto the bottom of the bottle as Racetrack popped the cork. She then held the bottle over where she filled Clara's glass. A quarter glass, it had to be rationed for the rest of the class, Clara turned to the group and held it out. "To the Colonial Fleet!"

"So say we all!" the whole class yelled out.

Clara brought the ambrosia to her lips, it was different from some she had tasted aboard Cloud Nine, it was sweet, almost fizzy in texture. As she sipped it slightly a cheer went up in the room, as Clara finished the whole glass the class was now officially officers of the Colonial Fleet. Handshakes and embraces were exchanged, as Clara passed the glass back to Captain Adama, who then went to managing the tables of refreshments on the side of the room, Racetrack rounded on her. Her right hand was extended.

Clara never ceased to be amazed by this woman, her hard features were either ranting or serious as the Viper than split in two on landing three days ago. She was either yelling at them for being idiots or cussing them out for jumping to the wrong location in the simulators—some of the deck gang had managed to construct a simulator out of one of the ships that had crashed on the planet called Kobol. Now she was smiling, offering her hand in congratulation to Clara.

"Well done Ossy."

Clara smiled at her use of her nickname, and without thinking gave Racetrack a small hug. When she pulled away the woman seemed scared, her head swept around as if trying to see if anyone saw that, then she nodded and walked off, leaving the room at a quick place. Clara herself was scared, in a way unsure of what that was, what emotion she had shown towards the slightly taller pilot.

The room was almost in chaos, the newly made ECO's were jumping about, more than just happy about being Colonial Officers, the now higher ranked officers who were certified Raptor pilots were less jubilant, they knew now they were more than just ECOs, they were pilots, which could mean double trouble. As she stood there, Clara thought of the family the class had become. The former ECOs were always like personal trainers, helping explain the station of the ECO, they were friends. The class of raw recruits, they were family. There had been ten when they started out, supposed to replace ten pilots, now the number had grown by two, making the group a total of twenty-two. The two new ones were In'Quired and Greeny. Greeny was an Orion.

The Orion race was curios, most of them were females and had the most colorful personalities to be so lacking diversity. The one main trait that stood out was their beauty. Every single one Clara had run into was tall, slender, and extremely attractive, Clara had even seen the Old Man struggle to not take second looks. Many were horrible at not noticing the Orion women, many of them men, but Clara also couldn't help but think several dirty thoughts when she saw Greeny strip for a shower.

Clara had a thing for partially exposed women, skinny women in general. She had trouble controlling herself at the day's end when the class had their turn at the squadrons. Sometimes she wondered if she was really like that, wondered if she shouldn't be, main because of Danny, but seeing the ladies all stripping into their skivvies, sometimes even farther before they enter the showers, Clara was beginning to fantisize.

Greeny approached with a glass of drink for Clara, offering a hand once Clara accepted. They stood side by side for moments, watching as everyone continued to celebrate. The night continued on until finally the hype settled and the deck gang drove them off the deck so they could continue with their work. The class then went back to their barracks.

Racetrack was there, wrapped in a blanket she was slumbering peacefully in her bunk. The class began split male and female, something that was now being demanded among _Galactica's_ crew, the females going into their own rooms and changing. They didn't actually have to change, they just removed their dress grays and maybe removed a piece or two of their undergarments.

Clara was slightly slower when she changed, always respectful of her uniforms, always being careful to see that her uniform was hung up correctly. She did it for Danny still, she remembered what he had told her about being a soldier, she had never heard why he hated being a soldier, but she remembered what he had said. 'you can't just wear a uniform, you have to respect it, wearing it like just another article of clothing is disrespectful.' Clara never thought she'd become a soldier, but now she was, and she couldn't help the smile on her face when she looked at the four different outfits in her locker.

Clara had removed clothing, stripping down to the gray T-shirt with a dark green tank top over, only other was her underwear and bra, which she didn't bother to remove. Today wasn't just their graduation day, it was their last day of training, they had started the day almost twenty-four hours ago, waking to the Racetrack's shouts. They had spent the entire day going through rigorous tests and exams, in a way simulating the experience that the crew of the _Galactica_ called a the thirty-three minute drill. While the day was only a third of what it had been for that crew so many months ago, Clara hadn't caught a hint of sleep in a long time.

The excitement of the party was wearing away now as Clara's eyelids began to droop, she lay in her bed and was beginning to close the privacy curtains to her bunk, yet across from her she caught a glimpse.

It was two bodies, one green, pressed against each other. The curtain hadn't been pulled all the way closed, so Clara had a fine view of where the hips of Greeny and Slipper, a woman who was said to be a survivor from Triton, were pressed against each other. Clara would look away but she saw they were going one of top of the other, the Orion had the human firmly pressed into the mattress of the narrow bunk. She could see the pale skin of the Triton woman as her hands probed across the Orion's back and slowly work down to her buttocks. Clara felt aroused, but she forced her eyes away, she couldn't just watch the private life of two women like she had, that was something you did when you watched porn.

Clara cast one last glimpse at the pair and drew the curtain, she rolled and faced the wall, her mind now slowly falling asleep, but not before it could dwell on how much she wanted that. To hold another close again, and she realized now how she wanted it not where she was held, like if it had been a man, but how much she wanted to hold a woman, someone just like her. She fell asleep to the thought, waking up less than six hours later to the morning watch chime.

 **Raptor 249: Deep Line Scout Mission**

Clara set back from the control panel and began to hum a Bee Gees song, it wasn't long before she was bored and began skipping between different songs.

"Could you stop Ossy?" Racetrack was piloting this mission, while Clara tried to hack through the DRADIS interference, she was scanning the sky with her eyes.

"Pardon me, I'm just use to a little more action in my adventures." Clara was now swiveling her chair back and forth.

Racetrack tried her best too look around the thick armor between the cockpit and hold. "Well get use to this sister, what do you have on DRADIS?"

Clara stood and walked forward, she pressed the button that would transfer the primary functions of her station to the co-pilot station. "Permission to come forward Margaret?"

Racetrack's face was twisted downward in frustration, she hated how Clara used her name like they were friends. "Fine." she was reluctant.

"Why are you so hateful? I mean, I have my periods, but you are just impossible all the time." Clara paused. "Ever since we graduated actually, you've acted that way."

Racetrack was silent, careful to keep her head scanning starboard of the ship. Clara squinted and cleared her throat. Racetrack didn't give in, and Clara gave up. They sat in the ship, eyes scanning, Clara regularly trying to do something to cut through the static that the asteroids in this system were playing on her DRADIS. They had orders to scout a large asteroid belt and be on the lookout for a Cylon staging area. There was nothing.

"It's fear Clara."

Clara's head snapped around, Racetrack was still looking out into space, but she had said something. "What's that?"

"Fear Clara," Racetrack met Clara's eyes. "I've known so many pilots; pilots, ECOs, grease-monkeys, marines too." there was a tone of sadness in her voice, Racetrack's head went down. "I was transferred aboard _Galactica_ from the Battlestar _Minotaur_ , I knew every pilot and ECO by name, and she had a group twice as big as us before the accident. Now I can hardly remember the one I was assigned to fly with." She looked back to Clara. "It's fear Clara, when you were recruits I had no problem being a friend, or anything as such, that was because you weren't in battle, weren't in the line of fire. Now you are, and I feel separated because I know that any day now you can be killed. All it can take is a micro asteroid hitting the windscreen too fast, and that's the end of your days." She was staring Clara straight on now. "I bet you understand that."

Clara looked away, she did. "I had just told my boyfriend I loved him when he died, all I had said was that I wanted to be with him forever, and he was in the middle of the street when I told him." She felt tears oncoming. "He was a soldier now, a teach too. Just like me. We met the first day of school, the Doctor complicated things though. For everyday he lived, I could live three or more, then when the day came I was too so confused." The tears were rolling now, Clara removed her helmet and began to wipe her eyes.

"I know how it is Clara. I knew someone on the _Minotaur_ , I loved her too." Racetrack's words caught in her throat, she too was crying. Racetrack knew it was against regulations, but she removed her helmet as well. She leaned over and took Clara's shoulders, holding them tightly as she wrapped Clara in a sweet embrace. After several seconds Clara responded and hugged her back.

In these moments Racetrack wished for eternity, the relative silence in Raptor as she held Clara close to her breast, the pain seemed to be subsiding and the tears were drying as Clara shifted to get better purchase against Racetrack. They were holding on with all their might, Racetrack could feel the pressure, although not as much as she, on her own body. Racetrack pulled away slowly to flip up the central console and swung her legs left into the space. She grabbed Clara and guided her into her lap. They sat there, Racetrack burying her face in Clara's clothed shoulder, Clara weeping silently against Racetrack's hair pony-tailed behind her head.

The DRADIS beeped, they ignored it until it began to blare a contact alarm. Clara was forced to quickly pull away from the warm embrace of the pilot, slipping into the seat again. The central console came down and they got bearing on the target. It was another ship, the easily distinguishable Tel'tak scout ship.

"What's that? Marg?"

"Tel'tak, long-ranged scout ship, but it's supposed to have a cloak." Racetrack was as nervous as Clara as she put her helmet back on.

"If it has a cloak then why—" The DRADIS console beeped again as a wormhole opened up and a fleet of Ha'taks vessels appeared. Clara's eyes widdended. "Frack."

Racetrack would ponder on the first time she had ever heard the woman swear, but this was no time for contemplative thought. "Spin up the FTL." She was almost yelling at Clara.

Clara's hands worked fast as she punched in the coordinates of the home fleet and fed them into the main computer. As she did they saw something else, it was a Wraith hive and multiple cruisers, they were soon joined by three more hives. It was a strike force.

"FTL spun up, coordinates locked in." It took so all Clara's will to look away from the fleet and finish her calculations.

"Jump on my mark. . . mark!"

None of the Goa'uld or Wraith noticed the Raptor until it hit FTL and was instantaneously three kilometers from her fleet.


	4. Constellation Attack Formation

Chapter 4

So I feel that the next chapter will have the scene some of you are looking for, if it is, and you don't want to read it, I will try and put a asterisk (*) next to the name. As always with this chapter, no difference: be sure to offer feedback and constructive criticism, I know I have probably gotten several details wrong, I kinda messed up several details concerning the Raptor, and always feel free to read and reread.

 **Raptor 249: Three kilometers from the Colonial Fleet and Allies.**

" _Galactica_ flight control this is Raptor Two-Four-Niner, requesting patch through to _Galactica_ Combat. Priotity One."

" _Hold short Raptor Two-Four-Niner, clearing line to Combat."_

"Fracking hurry it up will you." Racetrack flipped off the receiver and gave it the gun, pushing the Raptor forward past a patrolling flight of F-302s the Tau'ri had assisting with the Combat Air Patrols around the fleet. The Tau'ri vessels could also be seen on the outskirts of the fleet, it seemed that one or two were missing.

"Calm down Racetrack, it will take time for them to calculate their jump into this system." Clara reached an arm over and massaged Racetrack's left shoulder.

"You forget the military etiquette, they are withing five minutes Hyperspace from us, if I'm correct, and they can be on top of us before we even make the pattern."

The comms crackled. _"This is Galactica Combat, Colonel Tigh."_

Racetrack's hands were a blur as she turned her receiver back on. " _Galactica_ Combat this is Racetrack, we have scouted what we believe to be a combat force of multiple Goa'uld and Wraith warships in the P35T9 belt."

There was silence on the other end, Clara thought she could hear a faint voice as Colonel Tigh's hand slipped on the receiver. Finally the bridge talker's voice came over the comm. _"Racetrack, you are cleared for a combat landing, prepare for transfer to gunship operations."_ In the background they could hear the Condition One alarm.

"Copy that _Galactica_ , lining up on final." They lined off _Galactica's_ port landing deck, closing at a higher speed than usual.

Clara clenched tightly to her seat as the ship roared into the pod and slammed against the deck. A few months ago that would have been called a Boomer Landing, now it was simply bringing the Raptor down to hard on the deck. After they stopped the ship lifted and drifted over to a cargo lift where they were taken down to the Flight Deck. Chief Tyrol and Specialist Cally were moving over as the Raptor was taxied over towards the far end of the deck. The hatch swung open and Clara climbed out as Racetrack shut the systems down.

It was the general chaos on the deck as the ready Vipers were moved to their launch tubes, Clara could see on the opposite end of the deck the Raptor Gunships being moved into position for launch. Clara jumped down off the wing of the Raptor and yelled back in.

"Let's go LT!" a grunt came from inside and emerging was Racetrack, helmet under one arm as she joined Clara as they sprinted down the deck. There was the final Assault Raptor, it was actually a scout model that had been equipped with some exterior missile pods so it was slightly faster and more maneuverable at the cost of armor and protection.

The deck gang was ready to move the ship the second they boarded it, even before the electronics were coming online. By the time Clara had manged to fire up the control circuits and different feeds, the ship was next to be on the lift up to the Landing Deck where they would launch from. Finally, they were set, just as the ship was being lifted unto the hangar deck, as Clara tuned into the combat frequency.

" _Alright, everyone report in."_

The radio chatter picked up as each group reported in, finally it came for them to report, Racetrack called out they were ready for combat.

" _Understood. Galactica, Apollo here, all fighters ready for combat."_

The combat frequency was an open channel, all traffic could be heard, there wasn't anything private about it.

" _Galactica to all fighters, hold short and prepare for combat orders."_

" _Understood Galactica. Apollo to all ships, form a CAPs by section, commence patrols upon formation."_

The squadrons acknowledged and split into their separate sections and began to patrol the mass of ships that were shifting to be protected by _Galactica_ and her Allies.

Simultaneously, DRADIS, sensors, and scanners beeped throughout the fleet as multiple hyperspace portals opened. There were at least a dozen ships, mainly Goa'uld Ha'taks and the powerful Wraith cruisers. The comm chatter picked up again.

" _Galactica, Apollo, I've got visual on fifteen plus enemy ships, requesting orders."_

" _Galactica to all fighter: Hold your position and wait for orders."_

Clara was in the co-pilot seat of the Raptor, she had control of the weapons systems with the exclusion of Racetrack's dual forward facing cannons, and whenever she chose to lock the topside and lower turrets forward. Looking out to port (right), she could see the massive ships, many the size of _Galactica_ , out numbering her and her smaller consorts.

"We aren't seriously planning on taking them on are we?" Clara looked at Racetrack, who doing final checks on her weapon systems.

"It's not the Old Man's call Ossy, if the other captains can convince him, we'll have to run." Racetrack called in the swarm of fighters that could now be seen bearing towards them in a mass unimaginable. "But if I know him, or any other captain, we don't want the losses of this battle."

 _ **Galactica**_ **Combat Information Center (CIC)**

"We're out numbered three to one Commander." Saul Tigh's voice was it's usual hint of reluctance in this battle. It was the reason the man had remained Bill Adama's Executive Officer for so long, he always had input and didn't care whether Bill liked it or not.

Dee looked up. "Commander, the captains are on the line."

Bill grabbed the receiver from where he stood and held it to his ear. " _Galactica_ actual, go ahead."

The voice on the other end belonged to Colonel Evan Lorne, United States Air Force, Commanding BC-03 _Daedalus_. "Commander, I don't want to say this, but we have to run."

Bill covered the speaker shortly and ordered Gaeta to order the fleet to jump to the emergency coordinates. He returned to it. "Is this what you all agree on?"

"I don't think we need agreement Commander." It was the voice of Major Morrison, Commanding Officer BC-07 _Glasgow_.

Bill was beginning to agree as the DRADIS panels began to chime again.

"Sir we have three base ships bearing on the _Exeter's_ position, the last ships of the fleet have managed to jump away." Commander Bill Adama could see the perspiration on the brows of his CIC crew.

"We can stay and fight."

"Commander Adama, if we stay my First Officer believes we're looking at a possible loss rate of twenty-five percent." the number seemed well rounded, but Bill was sure the Federation officer Jacey Seller had simplified it from the Vulcan's logical calculations.

He was being overpowered, he felt it. Here he was on his own command, being pressured by the commands of several ships.

"I, for one, want to stay." It was that young and attractive captain of the Travelers, Larrin. "And in particular, my crew wants something other than a tactical retreat out of this."

"We can't Larrin." it was Lt. Colonel Sheppard.

"We have an advantage John, out fighters are scrambled, the civilians are out of the way, and we have out eggs in a ten kilometer radius, I say we punch a big damn hole in those hives and Goa'uld off Bill's port side." Larrin's logic was sound, every fighter in the fleet, even the shuttles Starfleet called gunships, were in the air at the moment awaiting orders.

"The hotshot is right, Sir." Tigh placed his phone down and stood ready to relay Bill's next order.

Bill though for several moments, his eyes were staring closely at the console before him. Finally he brought the receiver back up to his head. "Larrin is right, and opportunity as great as this is too good to pass up, out ships are deployed and we have the civilians out of the way. Not to mention we have to escort the _Exeter_ aside so she can use her Warp drives." He paused, waiting for any arguments. "We'll form an advancing column, _Galactica_ will lead with the battlecruisers on her flanks, and all fighters to the front in a Constellation attack pattern. _Exeter_ and Larrin's battleship will bring up the rear with her Generational ships. We'll punch through the Wraith and Goa'uld ships and ignore the Cylons for now, our mission is to get into a position where the _Exeter_ can safely set a large arc course that will take her around to the emergency jump coordinates. Once the _Exeter_ is safely jumped away, the hyperspace ships will plan no less than three different jumps to the zone, while _Galactica_ and all the fighters will cover their retreat."

"Commander we don't have to do this, we can all easily jump away, and _Exeter_ can out run any Cylon or Wraith." Lorne's tone was frustrated.

"Do what you want Colonel, but whoever wants to stay can, we'll retrieve your fighters if you want." Adama knew Lorne wasn't the man to abandon comrades, not unless it was a greater good.

"If we're all settled then, I've got your back Commander." the _Glasgow_ could now be seen moving into position around _Galactica's_ aft portion, _Odyssey_ , _Apollo_ , and _Daedalus_ began to move to do the same.

"Very well, all ships perform necessary maneuvers and transfer fighter command to _Galactica_ Flight Control." Bill lowered the receiver and turned to Colonel Tigh. "Set course through the Wraith and Goa'uld force."

"You heard the man, set course!"

 **Assault Raptor 15**

" _Galactica to all fighters, form off Galactica's bow and prepare for a Constellation attack formation."_

" _Roger Galactica, all fighters form Constellation attack pattern off Galactica's bow, move."_

The sixty odd Vipers, joined by their ten odd Assault Raptor cousins, formed in something of a conical formation less than five hundred meters from _Galactica's_ bow. Another voice began to come over comms.

" _Ahoy_ _there lads, request permission to join the party?"_ the Voice was Scottish, extremely Scottish, Clara knew it was more so that the Doctor's.

" _Who is this? Identify yourselves!"_ Apollo seemed unusually nervous for Racetrack's liking.

" _Captain Colin Patterson, I'm commanding the air flights for us Earthlings Apollo."_ A group of fifty-six of the strange looking F-302s bank in behind the formation, the pilots obviously troubled by the formation before them.

" _Patterson, keep you fighter behind my Raptors, when the Vipers break, you break and follow us."_

" _Very good sir, I think I see the logic of you plan here, be advised we got a number of the Traveler Puddle Jumpers coming up from out rear."_ The Scotsman's voice was generally jocular and cheery despite the looming mass of Wraith Darts and Death Gliders bearing on them at a massive speed.

" _Whatever, just make sure they don't get in the way of our Raptors. Apollo out."_

Clara closed her eyes, she was silently whispering a prayer under her breath. She felt a hand on her shoulder, her eyes turned to see that Racetrack's face was just as scared as hers. Clara blinked, fighting back tears that threatened to overwhelm her. This wasn't her first time in combat, it was her first time as a leading ECO in a Constellation pattern, and she was just about to the point of soiling herself.

"It's gonna be okay Clara, we release out payload, we fall back, simple as that." Racetrack pulled their helmets together, looking Clara right in the eye. Clara nodded, comforted in the woman's words.

They sat there, watching as the distance closed between the leading Vipers and the mass of enemy fighters. There had to be over a thousand, even if most of them were Wraith, the gliders were the second wave, backed by the fearsome Al'kesh bombers.

Someone had left their channel open, words of a prayer were drifting across the wireless until Apollo gave the order for them to shut up. They were in range, and Apollo yelled out the order. _"Break!"_ the Vipers broke, the F-302s following them, leaving the Raptors open with a clear firing arc at the oncoming fighters.

Racetrack was Raptor commander, she took a breath and gave the order to fire. From each fighter launched at least a dozen missiles, streaking through the dark of space with the white dust superheated behind them. The second barrage came a second later, the weapons automatically locking unto the ships farther outside the first cone as the first missiles hit. Space lit up with fire and superheated shrapnel, hundreds of Darts blown to oblivion by the missiles, hundreds more after as the second barrage began to detonate.

Reports were flying over the comms, Raptors reporting they had expended their missiles. The Raptor may have armor, but it was worthless in a dogfight, the missile barrage had driven group back far enough to buy the heavy ships to slow and turn around.

"All Raptors, this is Racetrack, bring 'em home. We've done what we can ladies." The Raptors didn't have room for banking turns, so the ships flipped on end and hit the boosters, Clara was pushed into her seat as the ship decelerated and began to move towards _Galactica's_ port flight pod. The fighter dove in now.

The F-302s and Vipers moved in, now spraying bullets, the F-302s giving them hell with their seeking missiles, they were suddenly joined by the Puddle Jumpers of the Traveler Battleship. Their drones pulled through space, one never missing it's target, the night was full of explosions now, the wireless filled with swears and calls.

" _Starbuck, you got a green bastard on you!"_ Kat called.

" _Leroy, watch your back old boy, gliders closing on your six."_

" _That does it! Got ten kills!"_

" _Frak! I'm hit, I've lost all lateral control."_

" _Beano, hold on, we've got help on you right now."_

It went on as the Raptors lined their approach, the defensive perimeter was arrayed before _Galactica's_ bow, thinning the horde, now joined by the suppressive fire of _Galactica_. The Raptors had time they needed, or so they thought.

The Cylons were experts in fine art of precise FTL jumping, they had all but put a ship inside _Galactica_ , and they showed it now as roughly twenty Raiders came out of FTL directly in front of the landing Raptors.

"Break, break, break!" Clara was jammed into her seat as Racetrack pulled the fighter through a tight loop, placing them where they were observing the chaos caused by the Raiders.

Racetrack didn't waste time, she cursed Clara for not using the defensive turrets, and lined up a Raider. She couldn't hit the thing worth crap, her shaking hands were flipping the ship too much as she all but freaked out in the cockpit, they were swinging about, Clara could barely control the ventral guns as Racetrack pushed them to the point of blacking out to extreme G-forces.

Clara looked at Racetrack, who was swearing profusely, and caught sight of a Raider bearing on their starboard. "Racetrack!" blue tracers bracketed the cockpit and shattered glass peppered the two of them. Clara felt her head jerked to the side, as if someone had grabbed the top helmet and slammed it against the opposite side of the windscreen, and saw stars when it hit the side of the cockpit.

Was Clara's head spinning, or was it the Raptor wheeling uncontrollably through space as Racetrack fought for control. Clara could hear a hissing, she almost lost it in panic, the air was leaking from her helmet.

" _Galactica_ , Racetrack, requesting permission for emergency set down, we are heavily damaged and Clara is leaking air from her helmet."

" _Racetrack, Galactica, cleared for emergency landing, bring her home quick."_

The bright snow that was blurring Clara's vision was getting worse, now she gasped for breath, each one harder than the last. All went black. Seconds later she came to as the Raptor slammed against the deck, skidding to a halt halfway down the bay. Once they had lost all speed and were halted, Racetrack grabbed a suction cup and manged to cover the main hole made in the side of the cockpit, Clara now noticed the large crack in the glass of Margaret's helmet. Taking the cup from under her seat, Clara pinned the hole less than two inches above her head.

They took their helmets off, firing up the compressors to fill the cabin with extra air until they were cleared for taxiing. The comms were still afire with insults and callsigns, finally they were all silenced by _Galactica_.

" _Attention all fighters, return and land immediately."_

Flight and Squadron leaders could be heard telling the fighters to head home, and Clara could now see the first planes coming in to land. Vipers were leading, followed closely by the Traveler's Puddle Jumpers, and finally the Tau'ri fighters carefully maneuvering into the crowded bay.

The Hanger Pods were retracting now, pulling in to protect the multitude of fighters now covering almost every open space on the deck. Someone was calling for a sitrep from Flight Control, the crackle of the Flight Controller came through. _"All fighters hold short for taxi, Galactica is preparing to jump."_

They felt it now, the suddenly crushing feeling as the world seemed to compact around them. Then it was gone.

" _All fighters, jump complete. Job well done pilots!"_

The wireless was filled with cheers and whoops of triumph, so much so that the controller had to start muting frequencies so he could direct traffic. Even as he tried, all the while the controller detailed ships to their different lifts the wireless was still crowded as people spoke of their triumphs and close calls. Apollo finally put a stop to it.


	5. (My Turn)

_This is the chapter most of you have been waiting for, probably not what you wanted, but you can expect further relation between the two in some of the following chapters. I was looking through some of my previous chapters recently, and noticed some grammatical and spelling errors, please forgive them, I tend to write fast and accidentally leave words/letters out. From now on, any chapter featuring sexually explicit content will be marked with asterisk for those of you who don't like it. I will try and recap what had been the prelude to it in the chapter after, so hopefully you won't miss out on anything important._

 **Battlestar** ** _Galactica_** **(BS-75)**

The Raptor was halted for it's post flight inspection in the center of the deck, the hatch swung open and a deckhand was in the rear compartment asking if both pilots were okay. They were, both startled and scared, but okay.

On the rest of the deck pilots were celebrating, gathering in their own little groups as they leaped back and forth in excitement from the victory they had won. As Clara climbed from the ship, while Racetrack shut the final systems down, she spotted a group of the Tau'ri pilots, they preferred to be called Tau'ri since they were actually multiple military groups, rather than just a single. The lead was tall, Clara imagined too tall for the cockpit of a Viper, but she heard the F-302s were much bigger, his brown hair was messy from where his oddly shaped helmet had been. The lead group was chattering loudly, their voices strange to the deckhands nearby, yet familiar in their Scottish tone to Clara.

"What the hell is that accent?" Racetrack was beside her on the Raptor's wing.

"Scottish, small province adjacent to England, they wanted independence a few years back, it failed." Clara jumped down of the wing and offered a hand to Racetrack. For some reason, Clara wasn't as happy as the people around, she could see all the other pilots milling about in excitement as they celebrated. Racetrack wasn't excited either, instead she was looking closely at the helmet tucked under Clara's arm.

"Clara." She was whispering.

Clara felt slightly exhilarated by the battle, the sight of the joyous pilots raiser her spirits, when she saw the look on Racetrack's face. Clara became scared, scared to see what Racetrack saw, but she had no choice, and she did see. Clara hadn't thought of how bad the shot that hit her helmet had been, she had been to concerned with survival, now she spotted the hole that had been slowly sucking oxygen from her helmet. It was lain bare, a single centimeter lower and the shot would have taken the top of Clara's head with it, the plastic outer coating was hardly damage, the metal inside must have been scraped away with the shot, out the other side of the helmet. The hole was big enough for her to stick four fingers through, and Clara saw that, the fear suddenly welling up inside her. Her right hand ran back through her hair, combing and searching for blood. There was none, only a sore spot from where metal must have hit her scalp.

Someone on the deck was yelling, Apollo ordering the pilots off the flight deck so that the maintenance crews could get back to work. People were pushing past Clara, Racetrack was caught up in them, she tried to get back but the solid mass of Tau'ri pilots blocked them from each other. Clara moved slowly along with the crowd of pilots.

Racetrack seemed to forget, suddenly caught in the moment as pilots began to slap her back for giving the fleet the early warning. Several minutes later, swept along she had ended up in the lounge until she broke free to find Clara. The barracks was deserted except for Clara, sitting on the bench with her head hung low, staring at the helmet she had carried with her from the flight deck. She had torn the flight suit from her body and stripped down to the gray shirt and tank top, the only other article visible was her shorts worn to under the flight suit.

Racetrack was quiet, walking up slowly and sitting beside Clara to wrap her arm around the Englishwoman's shoulders. She spoke softly, Clara turned and buried her face against Racetrack's chest, letting the tears flow with might.

"I almost died Marg."

"I know, I know." Racetrack closed her eyes and rocked back and forth, arms tight around Clara. Racetrack had come close to death, she knew now the angle could have been a few degrees different and she would have died as well.

"But the fact is that you're not Clara."

Clara pulled back looking up into Racetrack's eyes. They didn't say anything, brown eyes facing off brown eyes. One set filled with terror and sadness, the other more subtle, hardened by all kinds of hardships. Clara's eyes won, and she leveled herself, their faces less than an inch apart. And Racetrack, mesmerized by the deep pools of darkness she stared into, closed the distance in a kiss.

The kiss was broken after it started, but Racetrack's hands ran behind and Clara's neck and brought it together again, this time filled with a burning passion inside her. Clara's hands were on her cheeks, holding them together as each one fought for dominance of the kiss, pushing closer together. They went to their knees on the floor, arms wrapping around as they brought their bodies together. Finally they broke for air, their eyes were both wide as they stared in surprise at each other.

A smile broke across Clara's face, she stood and walked to the door and pulled it shut while Racetrack was slipping out of her flightsuit and combat boots. It was kind of a drill, be quick or be in trouble, no one liked to wait outside their room for a prolonged period of time.

When Clara turned Racetrack was there, her flightsuit thrown to the floor next to Clara's, she hadn't worn the shorts today, so Clara was seeing the muscular legs right up to her exposed thighs.

Racetrack advanced, her hands going to the shorts Clara had, pulling them down until Clara stepped from them. Her hands rested on Clara's hips now. Their lips met again, once again filled with passion as they held each other, Clara wrapping her arms around the small of Marg's back.

Marg swung them around, pushing Clara back unto the bench in the center of the room, she was on top now, a hand trailing it's way down to Clara's core, where a fire was burning, pure desire to release the passion inside of them. The kisses were quickening, their teeth biting at their lips, tongues fighting for dominance, Racetrack's hand finally moving under the edge of Clara's panties and rubbing softly against her.

Clara broke the kiss, her body heaving up into Marg, the sensation she hadn't felt since before she met Danny. Now she closed her eyes as Marg slipped a finger, then two, into her clit. Clara's hands went to Racetrack's hips trying to pull them closer to feel the combined heat of both their cores, all made more sexy by the cold steel under her back. She tugged and worked to remove Racetrack's panties, having to briefly break contact to get them past Marg's feet. Then Racetrack put three fingers in, sending stars of sensation and ecstasy through her body. She felt Marg's other hand lift the fron of her shirt and begin to massage her breasts, pushing the shirt up as far she could reach Clara's tits and tentatively begin to suck on them.

But Clara wanted to be released, not built up, she was on the edge as it was. And she grabbed Marg's head and pushed it towards her Core, sitting up to pull the woman's hair aside so that she could see her as she pushed her mouth against Clara's tight pussy.

"Please do it." she needed this, needed the high and feeling she felt when Marg began to lick, building to a furiousity that left Clara almost screaming on her back. She ate her out, bringing her farther along until she couldn't keep herself clean anymore, and in the high of the orgasm she exploded, clamping her legs tightly around Racetrack's head, unmoving in the after effect.

Clara opened her eyes when Racetrack pinched the inside of her thigh so she could finally breath. Very sexily, Racetrack got on all fours and moved up rather heavily clothed body. She came to hover over her face, stopping several times to kiss her along the way. She kissed the base of Clara's neck, tasting the salty sweat sprung from their quickie, she whispered softly in Clara's ear.

"I think it's time we get into the bed." Clara smiled and moved from under her, finally stripping all the way down to just the T-shirt where she climbed into her bunk, waiting patiently as Racetrack unlocked the door and finished stripping as well, now only in her own shirt. She climbed into the bed and felt for the curtain behind her.

"My turn." A grin split Racetrack's face as Clara worked her way closer, spreading her warmth around Racetrack's cold body.


	6. He's Mine

_So I'm sorry about the delay on this one, had writers block as well as overloaded days, a very potent combination to stall writing. Hope you all have enjoyed this story so far, I apologize for any problems with continuity and ask that you be patient on the next chapter._

 _So Say We All._

 **Battlestar** _ **Galactica**_ **(BS-75) The next morning.**

Racetrack pulled herself gently and slowly from Clara's bunk, casting a glance about the room to be sure none were awake and watching her as she dressed. She had taken off the rest of her clothing in the night, allowing Clara to do the things Racetrack hadn't done to her. The shirt and the rest of her clothing were in the mess that made both of theirs.

Once dressed she stood and looked closer at the room, most of the bunks were empty, and she began to remember when they were jumped. She had been too occupied with the victory? Was it? She hadn't heard anything, had only been concerned with Clara's well being and, by her watch it had been six hours since they landed, had been getting it on with Clara.

Racetrack sat, looking into the bunk at Clara's sleeping form, partially obscured by the privacy curtain Racetrack had left halfway closed to keep the lights of the barracks from shining on her. She was losing herself in contemplation, watching how Clara's body was against the mattress, staring at the smooth legs and the petite body, gazing and wondering what she had done.

Racetrack had loved a woman once, she had never slept with the woman, but she had always been close to the Viper pilot. When the attack on the colonies had been slightly easier on her, she had been separate for so many years, and she had been unloved, everyday had been the same and monotonous work that had chipped her away after the attack. It wasn't the job, is was what lie ahead, day after day of unloved years? Endless CAPs and battles that either she could die in? Or simply die from a trip or fall? She had lost herself, especially recently after Sharon had shot the Old Man in the chest, she still couldn't come to grips with that as well. She had begun to live for one thing recently, to kill Cylons. And as she sat she realized it wasn't spawned by hatred, it was fear, fear that hell was going to be lonely, and she had to have some company.

But her view was changing, and as Clara stirred from her slumber, caused by Racetrack's accidental dropping of her dog tags, Racetrack realized she was starting to live for love.

Clara moved to the edge of the bunk and pushed the curtain aside so she could look at Racetrack. "What time is it?" she was whispering.

Racetrack moved closer, leaning in and kissing Clara lightly between the eyes. "Oh-four-thirty." It was early on _Galactica_ , most awake were either awake on the final watch or couldn't sleep. "I'm gonna head on down to the lounge to see if I can get breakfast before the crowd gets there." She met Clara's lips this time.

Clara swung her bare legs out and sat up, leaning to bring her head out from under the tiny space the bunks had vertically. "Save me some eh?" she rubbed her eyes.

Racetrack smiled, eyes all but glued to Clara's naked hips. "It's gonna cost you."

Clara stood and wrapped her arms around Racetrack's neck, bringing them together. Racetrack wished she hadn't been wearing the heavy suit so that she could feel the smooth skin with her own. She had to settle by touching Clara's buttocks while they were caught in the kiss.

The finally had to break, someone else was beginning to stir in the barracks. "How's that?"

Racetrack rubbed her nose against Clara's. "I'll charge you a low interest rate out of honor." Clara giggled and let Racetrack leave the room.

 **Pilot Lounge**

There were three others in the room. Greeny was asleep in a chair, snoring softly, the other two were the Tau'ri pilots. The chow line outside hadn't opened up yet somehow the pilots had cups of steaming liquids that were most likely coffee. Racetrack stepped into the room and spotted the pot not far from the door, she poured herself a cup.

Entering the room she approached the pilots, it seemed awkward to do otherwise, and asked if she could sit with them.

"Weel naow lassie, doesnea bother me if Teyla here doesn't mind." the man was one of those funny Scottish pilots that flew from the _Glasgow_ , his partner didn't have any patch identifying her, she must have been one of the humans that wasn't from Earth. The woman had dark hair and a wide face, her patch read Emmagen.

"You two have to pardon me, but not many of us are familiar with your ranks." They expressed the same feeling.

"Well then, allow me to introduce us: I am 1st Lieutenant Teyla Emmagen, and this is Captain Colin Patterson."

Racetrack raised her cup. "Lieutenant Margaret Edmonson, people call me 'Racetrack'."

"Fine to meet ye Lieutenant, you a Viper pilot?" Colin had a louder, more obtrusive voice than Teyla.

"Nice to meet you two as well, and no." Eyebrows came up. "I fly Raptors, I'm also certified as a ECO."

"That's interesting, all we've met so far have been Viper pilots, what job do the Raptors have other than gunships?" Teyla leaned forward while Colin was caught in a coughing fit.

Racetrack took a drink of coffee and winced at the temperature of the liquid. "We're scouts, electronic support, pilot ships, troop carriers, you name it. We've even scored a good amount of kills with our dual guns. I guess we can be compared to those—Puddle Jumpers is it?" Teyla nodded. "We just use less advanced technology, and are good at what we do."

"So you aren't usually in combat eh?" Colin cut in.

Racetrack looked at him, Raptors did tend to end up in combat more often recently, but mainly as viewers, not like the battle not long ago. Racetrack looked down at her cup. "No, not usually as the fighters."

They had lost a couple of Raptors, one on landing, two when they were jumped, in Racetrack's book that was a slaughter.

"That's an interesting maneuver you squadrons used, Racetrack. How long did it take to perfect it?" Teyla asked.

"Took some times, three weeks last time we trained, we were lucky none of the nuggets were flying yesterday or we could have ended up with more than three Raptors gone." They nodded. Racetrack tried to turn the tide of conversation. "So, how long are you on _Galactica_?"

Patterson looked up from his mug. "Your Captain Adama, told us that as soon as the landing pods are clear and the fleet is regrouped. We'll be the off hopefully before he has to assign bunks to us." Teyla chuckled. Racetrack unconsciously thought about how many bunk spaces were empty on _Galactica_ , having two more fully trained pilots, rather than raw nuggets, would be a privilege.

"Judging by what I've seen, I hope we do get back on _Glasgow_ soon. No offense to you lassie." Racetrack wasn't sure how to take that.

They sat in silence for several seconds, Clara had entered the door and was pouring her own cup of coffee when Teyla sparked the conversation again.

"You surprised me Racetrack."

"How so?" Racetrack leaned back as Clara came and sat at the table. Racetrack always found it cold in the lounge, yet Clara had her flight suit unzipped down to her hips.

"You haven't asked about Earth." Patterson seemed to understand what Teyla was talking about now.

Racetrack smiled and leaned forward. "Lieutenant Emmagen, Captain Patterson, this is Clara Oswald. She comes from Earth."

"Oh." was all Teyla could manage as Clara smiled sweetly.

Captain Adama entered the room, Clara and Racetrack came to their feet as he approached the table. "As you were." He turned to Emmagen and Patterson. "Well, _Daedalus_ and her consorts just rejoined the fleet. They're transporting deck crew over to help get your birds flyable. In the mean time I suggest you become acquainted with Chief Tyrol and help him in whatever way he can."

Patterson hadn't moved, he looked up at Apollo and smiled. "Thank you Captain, glad to be of service."

Apollo lingered for a second, as if he wanted to assault Patterson for not respecting him, but he turned and walked from the room at a fast pace.

Patterson shook his head. He looked at Teyla, his voice tired. "Sometimes I actually understand why they didn't allow Colonel Haverty's cousin's son aboard, we'd end up like that man."

Racetrack sat her elbows on the table, looking closely at Patterson. "Excuse me Captain?"

Patterson looked, mild surprise in his face. "Oh no offense to you, but before I was assigned to _Glasgow_ I was on a ship called the _McClellan._ Teyla served with me some, but mainly right before me and my pilots were transferred to _Glasgow_. Anyway, before we transferred the CO, Colonel Haverty, had requested that his cousin's son be allowed to command the air group upon transfer to our ship. Well, when the Colonel found out he broke a few things in rage. I can see now why they don't let family members serve aboard ships."

Racetrack felt that Patterson was beating around the bush. "What exactly are you calling Apollo?"

Patterson leaned back, downed the last of his coffee and stood. "I'm not calling him anything, I just feel he is too use to being the top dog, the daddy's boy, the head honcho. All of you are. It's the problem you will have when we find out who will run this damn conglomerate we're part of. You think there is no one better than Commander Adama and his son, well the day some Admiral shows up will be the day you start to live your reality again." He nodded and left the room, leaving Teyla at the table with Clara and Racetrack.

Racetrack had opened her mouth to make a comment but Teyla spoke up first. "Don't Racetrack. He had a very critical and realistic view on life. You won't believe how much worse it was when I first met him."

"Well, Kat had said he was such a sensitive soul." Clara huffed, she was searching through some archive on her phone, an interesting piece of technology she had brought on board with her.

"Kat?" Teyla inquired.

"Kat, one of our newer pilots, fine one if you ask me. She must have flown his wing recently, she has an eye for men like him." Racetrack's coffee was cold and little left, she was tempted to get some more.

"Tell her he's mine Racetrack." Teyla smiled.

Clara looked up in surprise, she had been intently locked in on her phone. "Should I take that as a challenge?" her face grew into a cheeky grin that was supposed to be comical.

Teyla laughed and Racetrack leaned over and pecked Clara's cheek.

Suddenly the morning alarm blared. The mess line opened up and Racetrack stood to get some breakfast for her and Clara. She asked Teyla and got her some as well. The food was just about the worst there was, Starbuck had said there was worse on different freighters, but Racetrack wasn't sure. Before they had even finished their food the first pilots began feeding past the line and getting their own food.

For some reason Starbuck was up early, she was accompanied by Kat and Hotdog, and for some reason they all looked sober. The group approached and pulled up chairs. Starbuck somehow was all smiles and chuckles.

"So, what are you people doing up this early?"

"We went to bed early instead of perforating ourselves on bolts because we've drunken to much." Clara had a weird way of letting people know she didn't care what the question, or the answer, was.

"Perforating ourselves on bolts?" Hotdog's eyes were heavy laden with sleep, he also winced slightly at loud noises.

"Just shut up guys, my head is screaming and I'm already tired of you." Apparently the look of being sober didn't mean they were sober. The only one who turned out to be sober was Starbuck, who did indeed still have heavy eyes.

"You not drink at all last night Starbuck?" Racetrack asked.

Starbuck smiled cheekily, the whole table stared at her, eyes narrowed. Starbuck hadn't quite been herself since she came back from her mission to Caprica, the same mission that had brought back Karl C. Agathon and a copy of Sharon Valerii. The pilots knew she had met someone while there, and there was always the strange scare on her hip.

Starbuck noticed the entire table had stopped what it was doing. "Let it go." she went back to eating.


	7. Glasgow

If you're returning, or following, sorry for the long time, but you know how the holidays stop most things. Most of my private space was taken over so I had little or no time to continue this rather enjoyable story. (I found out how 'good' it was a week or so ago ;)

Anyway, hope you enjoy, the next chapter has some of the good you may want. ;P

 **Battlestar Galactica (BS-75) Three days later.**

"I want you to go to the Tau'ri Ship _Glasgow._ Her captain, Major Morrison has finally allowed for us to send a delegate to review his ship." Commander Adama sat in his leather padded chair, looking up at his son. "Once you're on board, they will send a delegate to _Galactica_ to review how we work. Major Morrison has agreed to give you full access to his ship, just as I have his."

Captain Lee Adama nodded, biting his cheek. " _Glasgow_ right? The same ship that pilot Patterson is from right?"

"Why, you got a grudge Captain?" Colonel Tigh was helping himself to a glass of ambrosia.

"No sir, it's just me and him aren't on the best of terms."

"Well whatever problems you have you better set aside, Lorne and his men amazingly have a supply of ammunition that is the same caliber as our Vipers, not to mention their ability to protect our mining ships. You need to get along with this Patterson if you have to." the Commander was looking through his watch log, his eyes seemed heavy laden.

"I tried that sir, he acted like he hated me after a minute of talking."

"Sometime I think I need to meet this man." the Commander cast a serious stare at Colonel Tigh.

"I don't care what he thinks of you, we need full cooperation from Lorne's men so we can get our production up, I also want to know how they keep manufacturing the ammunition we need."

"So am I a spy or a delegate?"

"I need facts Lee. Need them for the President, need them so I know we have them for the future."

"Care to explain it in more depth." Lee knew it was a risky move speaking to his father like that, especially with how he had been acting concerning their recent 'victory'.

Commander Adama looked up, he took off his glasses and looked Lee right in the eye. "Apollo, I need to know every little detail about these ships we're working beside, you said it yourself: One day we will have to elect an admiral, and the only way we are ever going to be able to do that is one of two. We either understand each other, or tear one another apart until not enough are alive for anything else. Also, whatever the people on the _Glasgow_ are using to make their ammunition is filling our lockers, I want to know about it."

Lee had been nodding, it was diplomacy, something people said he was good at since the Astral Queen incident. "Is that all."

"Yes, you're dismissed." Lee saluted and walked from the room. William Adama set back and let out a sigh of relief.

"You sure raised a hell of a son Bill." Tigh kept drinking.

 **HMS** ** _Glasgow_** **(BC-07) En route in Raptor 249.**

"Attention Battlecruiser _Glasgow_ , this is _Galactica_ Raptor Two-Four-Niner, requesting permission for docking." The most recent jump had made radio communications a pain, leaving Racetrack to constantly looking over at Clara swearing at her radio panel.

A transmission came back garbled. " _Galactica Raptor Two-Four-Niner, say again._ "

"Fraking muck of a nebula." Clara swore. She nodded for Racetrack to try again.

"Battlecruiser _Glasgow_ , this is _Galactica_ Raptor Two-Four-Niner, requesting permission to dock."

" _Galactica Raptor Two-Four-Niner, state reason for docking."_

"We have Captain Adama aboard as a Liaison to _Glasgow_ and the Tau'ri fleet, also here to transport _Glasgow's_ own liaison to _Galactica_."

" _Roger than Raptor two-four-niner, you are cleared for docking, starboard port._ "

"Roger that _Glasgow_ , landing in Starboard port."

Clara hit the console again when the radio surged static into their ears. "Bloody fraking hell." She cut the wireless and crossed her arms. They were less than a minute from _Glasgow_ , but Racetrack took her hand off one of the control columns and ran it across Clara's left leg. Racetrack was in the left hand seat, the Scout Raptors were a little different from the Assault Raptors, Scouts being more versatile and allowing the pilot and ECO to trade spots freely.

For a second neither remembered that Captain Adama was in the back of the Raptor, at least until he cleared his throat loudly.

Racetrack went back to her piloting and looked closely at the approaching ship. It was small, less than two hundred meters, tiny compared to _Galactica_ , yet somehow she was just as powerful, especially with the laser weapons Racetrack had seem it use not to long ago. The harder thing was the size of it's hangar port. Racetrack could see a door retracting, she realized how little room she would have for landing.

Racetrack slowed as she passed _Glasgow's_ bow and flipped the Raptor around, she began to slow even more, using the main engines to bring fifty tons of Raptor to a stop. By the time she was stationary she could see the edge of the hangar on either side, she swung her nose around and saw a man motioning her in with a pair of martial sticks. She just tapped the engines and deployed her gear. Suddenly there was a yellow web in front of her, then her Raptor was dropped ten feet to the deck of _Glasgow_. Adama swore when he was bounced from his seat in the back, yelling up to the cockpit.

"Racetrack, straighten up and fly like a human being!"

Racetrack murmered a low curse and thumbed the thrusters, lifting the ship up less than a few inches and hovering it in until the martial told her to stop. The radio garbled again.

" _Welcome to Glasgow 2-4-9._ "

Deck crew were gathering around the ship, Racetrack punched the button and the hatch opened. Then, out of the corner of her eye while she was looking at the console, she saw a tall blond man. Raising up she saw it was Patterson.

Colin Patterson came from the bottom of the food chain. It was the main reason for his disliking of many of the Colonial, and Federation, officers he had met. They all seemed so tight and strict, always insisting that you salute, say 'yes sir', and polish their boots among meeting them. Not like the RAF or the USAF. No, in them they made sure you were a good officer, they made sure siblings didn't serve on the same spaceship, they made sure you knew what you were doing before they put you in a slot. Or at least in the fleet they did. Patterson could remember several times when he flew Eurofighter Typhoons from the aerodrome outside Edinburgh, how several times the base CO had been forced to discipline a certain pilot who was actually his nephew.

Patterson hated sibling officers most of all. A whole family of them was usually a group of tightly packed snobs whose thoughts were on the fact they had a family of six officers, mother, father, sister brother, and other brother. It was his reason for disliking the Captain Adama, who apparently could get away with mutiny and murder, he was supposed to greet now.

Raptors were a familiar sight now, their strange snub wings and twin tails made them easily distinguishable from most ships, and he had to admit he liked the look of the ship.

Captain Adama was standing on the edge of the Raptor, looking curiously at the curiously onlooking deck hands. Patterson prepared himself for the worst and angled around. He stopped in front of the ship and stared straight at Lee Adama.

The man's hands came up to touch his brow. "Permission to come aboard Mister Patterson!"

Patterson returned the salute. "Granted." He spoke flatly, exactly like his feeling of not caring.

Apollo stepped down off the Raptor. Major Morrison was jogging across the deck, the shuttle arriving late had found him still involved in a promotion ceremony after several casualties of the resent battle were replaced by their lower ranks. When Apollo tried to offer a salute it was waved aside as Morrison admired the Raptor while shaking Adama's hand.

"Quite the ship Mister Adama! Mind if I have my SFO take a look at them?" Patterson was already taking in the Raptor.

Apollo turned around and looked at Clara climbing from the hatch. "As long as it's okay with the crew Major, I hear they're supposed to take a delegate back to _Galactica_."

Morrison acted as if he'd forgotten. "Ohh, well he shan't be ready for some time Captain, right Patterson?" He leaned around Apollo and looked at Patterson, who was offering Clara a hand down to the deck.

"I'll see the next CAP of sir, then I'll be ready for flight."

"You see? Nothing to worry about, only a few minor delays Captain, now if you please, follow me and we'll take a look about this ship." Morrison guided Apollo away just as Racetrack was climbing from the cockpit and stepping out onto the wing.

"You have something better to do maggots!" Patterson bellowed at the deckhands, startling Clara.

The crew dispersed and Patterson turned to Racetrack, standing less tall that she should have due to Patterson's height.

"Patterson." She said with a low and sarcastic undertone.

"Racetrack."

"I thought you didn't Adama."

"Kings Regulations, I shall not show disrespect to an allied officer, no matter my ideas towards them."

Clara realized Danny had once used that on her.

"Don't expect the same from me _Patty_." Patterson shook his head and walked off, he had to see the next CAP off.

After a few yards he realized Clara was tagging along behind him, he suit making a loud swishing sound. Patterson turned to see Racetrack was coming along as well.

"Can I help you two?" he inquired when Racetrack caught up.

"We're your pilots Patty, gotta be sure you get in the Raptor with us." Racetrack crossed her arms, something that showed a very nice side of her.

"Well under certain circumstances I would enjoy that lassie, but I've got to see my CAP off."

"Why hasn't it been off before now?" Clara asked, Racetrack was taken aback by his previous comment.

Patterson ignored her and turned away, calling to a NCO. "Chief Dawes! Bloody get that damn Raptor off the strip, a great damn shuttle could need an emergency landing and the Port bay is setting up for a launch."

The chief said yes sir and charged off.

Thirty minutes later the CAP was off and Patterson was on the deck in his dress uniform, baggage under one arm and cap on his head. Clara and Racetrack had been touring the hangar, asking deckhands and a present pilot about the 302 and the puddlejumper in the corner. A young pilot from the highlands, too young to be one if not for the lackage of volunteers, was somewhat mesmerized by the two lovely ladies asking him questions about the 302 and it's systems. Patterson resisted a smile at the strange hope the boy must have had about impressing the ladies. He approached as the boy, named Barton, was explaining the propulsion system of the 302.

"Working for a poke Fanny?" Patterson cut in, making Barton blush. He leaned against the wing of the 302. "My advice, try getting a shift on the _Exeter_ , I hear they got a few itching for a snake as big as yours." Fanny's face turned as red as a beet and he scurried off as quick as he could without running.

"Was that necessary?" Clara's face was crunched in a look of severe frustration.

"He's only trying to compensate Clara, I heard from a bird that Scotsmen did that." Racetrack had a bored look on her face.

"Size doesn't matter, his scorecard proves that. If I saw one worse I'd go straight to hell, no questions asked."

"I still think her could do better than you." Clara flicked a lose bang out of her face, turning to walk towards the Raptor.

"I'm full of surprises, my flight instructor, both actually, learned that."

"They enjoy it?" Racetrack brought her chin up a little squinting her eyes at him.

"More than they should have, I'm happy to say they won't be the same for awhile yet." Patterson couldn't help but let the dirty thoughts fly.

Racetrack bit her lip and turned, shaking her head slightly as she jogged off to the powering Raptor. Patterson followed. He climbed into the hold to hear Racetrack and Clara talking in low voices, it was his first time inside a Raptor so he studied the control panel that dominated the port side of the hull.

Five minutes the fighter lifted from the deck, exited the bay and began to report she had FTL trouble. Thirty seconds after making the comment, Raptor 249 made a unscheduled jump.


End file.
